


burning flame, full of desire

by JanetSnakehole



Series: The Internet is For Porn: Darcy Lewis Smut Week '16 [2]
Category: Fantastic Four, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy Lewis Smut Week, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Halloween, Smut, TaserTorch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-08
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:27:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7134851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanetSnakehole/pseuds/JanetSnakehole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy and Johnny go to a Halloween party.</p>
<p>Day 2 of Darcy Lewis Smut Week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burning flame, full of desire

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 prompt: Wicked Witch
> 
> I know I'm not the only one to decide on a Halloween-themed alternative to writing a witch AU, but tbh this felt way easier. I do not feel remotely bad about this slightly easier take on the prompt. 
> 
> Also sorry it's slightly late. But it might still technically be Day 2 in Hawaii or somewhere.
> 
> Finally, Johnny's costume and Darcy's response to it is loosely based off an episode of Community.
> 
> (Title from Abracadabra by Steve Miller Band)

Darcy had just finished applying one last swipe of her crimson lip stain when a knock at the door cut through the song she’d been listening (and humming along badly) to. Her heels clacked across the hardwood floor of her apartment as she raced to answer it. Yanking open the door, she tried to suppress the urge to roll her eyes and failed. Pretty badly. 

 

Johnny Storm was leaning against her doorframe, boxing gloves hanging around his neck. He was dressed in a satiny red robe and matching shorts slung low on his hips, strategically placed to emphasize the V-shaped muscles peeking out of his waistband. No shirt, not that she was complaining, because, hey, it was a good look for him. He raked his eyes over her, head to toe, and her stomach did a surprising little flutter as he drank her in. The whole thing made her feel much more exposed than she really was. Alright, she would admit her breasts were pretty prominent in the V-neck she wore, but with a rack like hers, that was inevitable. A wicked grin (did he have any other kind?) spread over his face. 

 

“Trick or treat.” He cocked an eyebrow. “What are you supposed to be?” 

 

She gestured to the tiny hat perched atop her dark hair. “I'm a witch, duh.” She shrugged. “I already had a black dress and I didn't have a lot of time to go costume shopping.” Now she looked him up and down, imitating the look her had given her. “And you’re dressed as what, a flimsy excuse to be half naked at an event with many drunk women?”

 

“You’re welcome,” he said, winking. He flexed his pecs a little, too, which had her barely containing the urge to roll her eyes again. 

 

“Well unfortunately for you, Johnny, I'm not drunk.”  _ Yet _ , she reminded herself. They were going to a Tony Stark party, after all. Booze would not be in short supply. She grabbed her clutch from the table next to her door and secured the strap around her wrist. “Why are you here, by the way?”

 

He extended his elbow in an uncharacteristically chivalrous gesture. After scrupulously studying him for any indication of mockery, she hooked her arm into his. “I hoped being your escort to the party might help you forgive me for Tuesday?” Boyish optimism radiated from him as he smiled down at her, waiting for her to lock her door. 

 

She furrowed her brow, a frown wrinkling the corners of her mouth. “First of all, it’s a Halloween party, not a debutante ball. I don’t need an escort,” she snapped. “Secondly, if you were worried about me being mad at you for Tuesday, maybe you shouldn’t have done it in the first place,” she said, keeping her arm linked with his, but her entire body felt tense and tight. 

 

“Come on, Darcy. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve done something to piss you off,” he nudged her with his shoulder, trying to lighten her mood. “You know you’re already working out a way to prank me back.”

 

She pressed the call button for the elevator, and thanks to Stark Tower’s high speed lifts, the doors dinged open almost instantly. “You might not be wrong about that,” she replied, stepping on and pushing the penthouse button. 

 

A blast of noise hit them as the doors opened again onto Tony’s private floor, where the party was already well underway. The entire penthouse seemed to be decked out to resemble a mad scientist’s laboratory. Except for the fact that she had never personally witnessed Tony using an Erlenmeyer flask or a Bunsen burner, she supposed the comparison wasn’t too far off. Pale liquids bubbled away in beakers, the steam condensing through stills and tubes, funneled into still more glassware. The biggest Tesla coil she had ever seen stood in the corner of the room, sending off violet bolts of light. Dum-E seemed to be handing out drinks, though not too skillfully, based on the splash of liquid she saw as it crushed a glass in its claw-like grip. 

 

A sizeable group of people danced in the center of the room, swaying to the sounds of–holy shit! Either that was a pitch perfect Mick Jagger impersonator in old age makeup, or Tony had hired the Rolling Stones to play his personal Halloween party. 

 

Soft, warm breath tickled her ear as Johnny leaned into her, his hand skimming the small of her back. “Can I get you a drink?”

 

She was so starstruck by the band that her response was pretty delayed. “Gimlet. Gin, please, not vodka.”

 

He darted off to the bar while she scanned the room for familiar faces. Pepper and Rhodey were at the very front of the stage, singing along to every word of Sympathy for the Devil. Jane, wearing the same Little Red Riding Hood costume she'd work for the last eight Halloweens, was animatedly explaining how the Tesla coil worked to Thor (who was gazing at her with some serious heart eyes and very clearly not taking in a word she said) and Bucky (who looked legitimately captivated by her rant).

 

A well muscled arm draped over her shoulder, and she turned, expecting to see Johnny holding her drink, but instead came face to face with Tony, dressed as– “What in the hell are you supposed to be?!” She cackled, admiring the way the black catsuit accentuated his shoulders. 

 

He waved his hand dismissively. “I thought it would be funny. Coming to my own party dressed as the Black Widow in no way indicates that I lost a bet with Barton.” The way Clint was blatantly pointing and laughing at Tony from across the room clearly refuted that statement.

 

“Speaking of losing bets,” Johnny interrupted, pressing the stem of a delicate coupe glass into her hand. “You may have noticed that my more self righteous doppelganger seems to have convinced his lady love to wear couple's costumes.” He nodded toward the bar, where Steve and Natasha were leaning into each other, quite the adorable picture in their matching Top Gun flight suits. “You owe me twenty bucks, Lewis.”

 

Tony waggled his finger at Johnny, who bristled a little upon noticing Tony's arm around Darcy. “Not the case, Burning Man. The Maverick and Goose getups were actually her idea,” he corrected, and Darcy high fived him. 

 

“HA!” She crowed, holding out her palm. “Pay up, loser!”

 

Johnny grumbled, digging in the pockets of his shorts for his wallet. Darcy tried valiantly (okay, not really) to keep from noticing how this made the waistband of his costume dip lower, showing the strong jut of his hipbone. And now she definitely wasn’t imagining how it might feel to have her thighs wrapped around his hips. Not even a little bit. Tony, to his credit, did not mention the flush he was sure to have seen creeping across her chest as she watched Johnny. He did, however, take the opportunity to remove his arm from Darcy’s shoulder and head toward Pepper without a word. 

 

Johnny slapped the bill into her outstretched hand and she nodded her thanks, folding the twenty in half. She slowly slid the money into her cleavage–old habit from college–and a small thrill went through her as his eyes tracked the movement every inch of the way. She took a small, self-satisfied sip of her drink, challenging his steady gaze the whole time. The sweet-tart liquid burned as it ran down her throat, and her tongue chased a drop of it across her full bottom lip. A dark look of desire flickered over his handsome features, and, yeah, Darcy wasn’t even going to pretend like she didn’t absolutely love having that effect on him. 

 

The band played the last few notes, and the lull of applause between songs didn’t break her focus on Johnny, or snap her back to reality, or anything she would have expected. She looked up at him through her dark lashes, and for a second it seemed like he was about to say something but thought better of it. The opening guitar twang of Wild Horses permeated the relative quiet of the party, and Darcy smiled. “I love this song,” she muttered, more to herself than to Johnny.

 

He plucked her drink from her grasp, and placed it on a nearby table with his own. “Dance with me, then?” He held out his hand, hope written all over his face.

 

Darcy couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “Come on, Johnny, there’s gotta be at least a dozen women here who would kill to dance with you,” she brushed it off lightly.

 

He twined his fingers with hers and tugged her toward him, blue eyes sparkling vividly. “And you know you’re the only one I want to dance with. So let’s go.” 

 

They’d always flirted before (but to be fair, how does a girl  _ not  _ flirt with a man who looks like that?), but this? This was different. There was a certain electricity between them, an invisible spark crackling that made her entire body feel like it was humming.

 

Wordlessly, she followed him onto the dance floor and let him drape her arms around his neck. Warm hands trailed down her body slowly and she shivered, despite feeling like she was the one who could burst into flames at any moment. His hands came to rest at the small of her back, a comforting weight pulling her closer to him as they swayed. Their height difference left her at eye level with his broad chest, and she turned her cheek to rest it against his naked collarbone. 

 

There was a rumble deep in his chest as he murmured down to her, “I forgot to ask you about your costume earlier. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?” The absolute sin that dripped from his voice sent a rush of heat straight to her core. This was hands down the most turned on she’d ever been by a Wizard of Oz quote.

 

She stroked the back of his neck, standing on tiptoe to reply, “Oh, I’m definitely a  _ bad _ witch. In fact, you could even call me  _ wicked _ ,” she purred, grazing his earlobe with her teeth and laving the soft flesh with her tongue. His hips jerked forward, and one of his hands gripped her ass tightly as he let out a little moan.

 

“So does this mean I’m forgiven for Tuesday?” he choked out, hardly able to form words at this point. 

 

She went stiff in his arms and pulled away, staring stone-faced into his eyes. “No. And I wish you’d stop bringing it up.” She turned on her heel and stalked away, face flushing with outrage and hot pinpricks of tears welling behind her eyes. Across the room, she saw her escape: the spiral staircase leading to Tony’s private balcony.

 

She darted up the stairs, pushing past a concerned Sam and waving him off, claiming she was fine. Darcy flung open the door, relieved beyond belief that nobody was on the balcony. She slumped down into a plush lounge chair and buried her head in her hands, trying to blink back the angry tears threatening to spill. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Johnny’s voice cut through the distorted sounds of the party and the distant city noise. Glancing up at him, she saw a grimace distorting his features. “I didn’t mean to, you know…”

 

“Humiliate me?” she supplied, sneering. “Well sometimes when we play stupid pranks on people, things don’t go according to plan.”

 

Johnny staggered back like she’d slapped him, mouth agape. “Humiliate you? I–I was just trying to mess with Reed,” he stammered, shocked.

 

“Goddammit, Johnny. You know how hard I’ve been working for this collaboration. I’ve spent  _ over a year of my life _ trying to get everyone from the Avengers, you and your sister, even a few random people from Hell’s Kitchen involved in this.” She stood up to face him, trying in vain to keep her hands from shaking with rage. 

 

“And the day I show up to pitch this to Reed, he starts handing me files and asking me to get him a coffee. Everything I said went in one ear and right out the other. And then  _ you– _ ” venom dripped from the word, as she jabbed a finger harshly into his sternum “ _ –you _ show up, laughing like it’s the funniest damn thing you’ve ever seen. Because you had convinced him that I was there to be his new lab assistant, not trying to broker an alliance between some of the most powerful people on the planet. Because it’s not like humanity is under constant threat of attack from aliens, and other superpowered people, and fucking Nazis or anything!” She was breathing heavily, and her shoulders slumped. Most of her rage had been funneled into her shouting, and now she just felt exhausted.

 

Johnny stood silently, jaw clenched. She looked up at him, tears glistening in her eyes. “I know nobody around here really believes I can make this deal happen. To them I’m still just the scientist wrangler, the lab assistant who makes sure the geniuses don’t drop dead from starvation while they’re getting the real work done.” She sighed and turned away, hugging her arms around her ribs to comfort herself. Quietly, she said, “I’ve spent most of my life having people not take me seriously. I just couldn’t handle it from you, of all people.”

 

Suddenly his strong arms wrapped around her from behind, the heat from his chest pressed against her back warming her entire body. “I’m so, so sorry, Darcy,” he whispered into her hair as he held her tightly. “Of course I believe in you. You’re the strongest, smartest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met, and that absolutely includes the room full of superheroes, Nobel laureates, and former Russian assassins downstairs. I don’t know that I’ve ever had more confidence in anyone in my entire life.”

 

It was hard to stay mad at him when he was holding her to him and saying things like that, but she was damn well going to try. “Then why did you do it?”

 

She felt him shrug, the rise and fall of strong muscles pressing into her shoulderblades. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a fucking idiot.”

 

Completely despite herself, Darcy laughed. “It’s hard to argue with that.” 

 

Slowly, he released his hold on her and stepped back. Immediately she felt his absence, a chill running through her entire body and she shivered in the crisp October air. Rubbing her hands on her upper arms for warmth, she turned around to face him. “Wait. What do you mean, most beautiful person you’ve ever met?”

 

He rubbed the back of his neck, squinting awkwardly and avoiding eye contact.  _ Johnny Fucking Storm _ , was self-conscious. “You caught that part, huh?” She stared him down, one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation. He sighed. “Oh come on, Darcy. You know you’re gorgeous. And we both know how smart you are. Don’t pretend you don’t know how I’ve been ass-over-ankles infatuated with you since we first met.”

 

Without even thinking, she fisted her hands in his silky robe, pulling him down to her level and crushing her lips to his. If she thought she felt warm when he was hugging her, that was nothing compared to the fire zinging its way through her veins as he held her face in his hands and parted his lips under hers. His tongue traced her lower lip, and she moaned a little, meeting his tongue with her own. He tasted smoky, like the scotch he’d had inside, and she was already pretty sure he was going to absolutely ruin her for other men.

 

Bending down slightly, he cupped the backs of her thighs through her dress and hoisted her up. Darcy wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her over to one of the patio chairs, using the opportunity to knead and squeeze her ass as he went. For a brief moment they had to break the kiss for him to sit back on the lounge chair, placing her knees on either side of his hips, and those mere seconds were like being deprived of oxygen. 

 

She peeled the robe from his shoulders, tossing it on the ground nearby, as she tugged at his lower lip with her teeth. Raking her fingernails across his chest, he bucked his hips up into her, seeking contact on his rapidly hardening cock. Johnny leaned into her, licking and biting an agonizingly slow path down her neck as one hand traced its way up her thigh, rucking the hem of her dress up as he went. 

 

His mouth reached the neckline of her dress, stubble scraping across the delicate skin of her cleavage as he buried his face between her breasts. His free hand came up to push the straps of her dress down, the fabric pooling around her waist. He ran his tongue along the lace edge of her bra as he worked the clasp in the back. Darcy shrugged out of her bra, flinging it somewhere in the vicinity of where his robe had gone. 

 

He groaned at the sight of her breasts bared to him, and she knew the cold night air had nothing to do with how achingly hard her nipples were. He cupped one breast in his hand, gently flicking his thumb over the pert nub as he laved his scorchingly hot tongue over the other. Darcy moaned loudly, glad that the din of the party wouldn’t allow anyone to overhear.

 

Johnny’s attention to her tits was so thorough that she almost forgot what he was doing with his other hand, until it reached the apex of her thighs. “Fuck, Darcy,” he gasped, running his finger up and down her soaked slit. “No panties?”

 

She grinned down at him, rolling her hips slightly to encourage him to touch her more. “Is that a problem?” Her breath hitched as she said it, and normally she would’ve been a little annoyed at not being able to deliver the line with more confidence, but he could take her breath away any time as long as he just  _ kept touching her there _ . 

 

Johnny gathered some of her slickness on his fingers, dragging it up her slit to circle her clit slowly. “I think I’ll find a way to manage,” he told her. He kissed her deeply, his tongue moving in tandem with his fingers over her clit. He slid two fingers into her tight, wet heat and began to pump them into her slowly. 

 

Darcy traced her fingers over the waistband of his shorts for a moment before slipping her hand inside. Her fingers skimmed over his cock before taking it in her grasp and swiping her thumb over the tip, smearing the moisture that had beaded there all over the swollen and sensitive head. He bucked up a little, but didn’t stop his attention to her cunt. Her hand worked up and down his shaft a few times before stopping and breaking the kiss. 

 

Darcy slid down his body, tugging at the elastic of his shorts, and he lifted his hips so she could pull them down and off. His thick cock sprung free, achingly hard and standing at attention under her gaze. She took it in her hand, bending at the waist, and licked a stripe from base to tip. She swirled her tongue around the head, lapping up any more precum from his slit. Her ruby lips wrapped around the shaft as she gazed up at him through her lashes, a deceptively innocent expression for what she was doing at the moment. She bobbed her head up and down, sucking him as deep into her mouth as she could, and gripping him firmly in her hand for the length she couldn’t take. Johnny threaded his fingers into her hair as he watched her swallowing his cock, and finally he had to choke out, “Darcy, you keep that up and this isn’t gonna last much longer.”

 

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she crawled back up toward him, pulling him in for a filthy kiss as she straddled him again. She rubbed her slickness over his cock a few times, moaning wantonly as she did so. Finally, she lined up the head with her entrance and slowly sank down onto him, reveling in the feeling of fullness. She began to ride him, sliding up and down as he resumed thumbing her clit. He thrust his hips up and into her, matching her stroke for stroke, her moans growing louder as she neared her release. 

 

Her inner walls began to pulse and flutter as she sped up, bringing her hand down to cover his, guiding his fingers to touch her exactly the way she knew would make her cum the hardest. Her back arched, letting out a cry as she came, her pussy fluttering and clenching around him. He wasn’t far behind, pulsing out his hot release in spurts inside her.

 

He slumped back against the chair as she pulled the straps of her dress back up over her shoulders and climbed off his lap. She dropped one more kiss to the corner of his mouth, and he blinked up at her, clearly confused. She grinned devilishly as she picked up his robe and shorts from the patio. Realization dawned on him as she backed up, walking back toward the door to the party. 

 

“I’m sorry to do this, Johnny,” she said, obviously not sorry at all. She laughed and yanked open the door, leaving him naked on the balcony. She turned back to him and laughed, eyes alight with glee. “But I did tell you I was a  _ wicked _ witch.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear any feedback you lovely people have. I really adore this ship, and it is my first time writing Johnny at all, so I welcome any thoughts/comments on him or them together. 
> 
> Hit me up on Tumblr if you want! @itsjanetsnakehole


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